It’s late and I can’t find anything to articulate how I feel.

It’s getting later and I’m still struggling with my words.

I’m struggling with how I feel and what I want to do and how to voice everything in my head.

It’s late and I’m desperately trying to make sense of the mess in my mind.

It’s late and I’m struggling

It’s late and I’m still trying to find that piece of poetry.

It’s late and I still cannot find that goddammed thing that will tell you how I feel. That singular phrase that will make everything clear and simple and better.

It’s late but some things can only be said late.